Tiny Bites
by Kaitos-V-ibrator
Summary: In which baby Thomas tries to figure out why his big bro is upset /flufffff/


His crayon broke in his tiny grip, as young Chris Arclight felt his heart jump from the bellowing voices out in the hall.

He was suppose to be down for his nap! Was Chris upset with him? He had never actually heard Chris yell…and that voice yelling back sounded so dangerous…who…

It was their dad! He was—but Chris loved him! Why were they arguing?

Hobbling up to his feet, Thomas pushed at the doorway, casting an apphrehensive look back at his crib. He was suppose to be sleeping, not drawing…but he needed to check on Chris!

Peeking out into the hall, Thomas saw his brother and fathers faces contorted in rage. They never fought, they never fought!

His tiny body quivering as he witnessed the scene, Thomas began making his way towards his brother. What ever was going on, Chris needed him. Although the moment the tiny

baby mustered enough courage to go to his brothers side, Chris ripped away from view, and broke away towards his room. Slamming the door behind him, Thomas fell back

from the ear shattering sound. Byron looked thoroughly displeased, muttered to himself, then broke away in the other direction.

Was Chris hurt? Why did he shut his door like that?

Resigning to a crawl (it was much faster than trying to walk), Thomas hurried over to Chris' room and began tapping at his door with his chubby palm.

"Chris, Chris, Chris," he called out, on the verge of tears. Why wasn't he answering?

From inside his room, Chris rubbed away at bitter tears he felt were most undignified in releasing. He swallowed down his tears and began contemplating whether or not he should grab the scissors from the kitchen and cut his stupid braid off. Upon pondering this spiteful thought, he choked back when he began hearing a soft thumping coming from outside his door. A-a monster? Preposterous—

"Chris," Thomas' voice was whining painfully,

Had the monster gotten Thomas?! T-there was no monster. It was just Thomas! He scolded himself as he hurried towards the door to let his brother inside. Hadn't Thomas been napping? Had their voices woken him up? Thomas did have a dreadfully crafty little way of climbing out of his high chair or crib when prompted.

"Chris sad?" The baby quivered as he reached up to hug his big brother. He stumbled a bit, not all to used to being on his feet, and had to cling to Chris' shoulders to support himself properly. The older boy was quick to grip his brother in place, gently wiping away the tiny beads of water that formed at the sides of the smaller boys eyes, Chris shook his head no.

"No, no, I'm fine…" he sniffled, heart breaking seeing the younger so concerned over his well being.

"Don't cry." Thomas huffed, hooking onto Chris' shoulders and dragging him down closer to him. Puckering his lips, Thomas smashed his lips against Chris' eye, trying to kiss it better.

Flinching back and biting back an "oww", Chris' eye watered in a mix of pain and gratitude from the "kiss".

"I won't—" Chris started, only to have his fathers voice interupt him. He sounded concerned, scared even—

He was calling out for Thomas.

The baby had a tendency to crawl away from both of the elder Arclights whenever given a chance. Thomas thought it was a fun game. He liked playing with Chris and his dad.

"He's here!" Chris called out, hoisting Thomas onto his feet. Byron hurried down the hall towards his two boys, sighing heavily in relief seeing them together.

"There you are, not how did you get out of your crib this time?" he chrotled gently, reaching to smooth back his sons hair.

"Bad. Bad daddy, make Chris sad!" Thomas snarled, thrashing his hands at Byron in an attempt to shoo him away.

Chris clung to his brother, quickling scolding him to quit acting so brashly.

"No, Thomas we do not hit."

"But Chris was crying" Thomas pouted, still trying to sway Byron away.

"My, my, I must apologize, m'boy. I did not mean to do anything of the sort." he soothed, brushing both their faces with the back of his palm. Unable to help but smile up at his father, Chris snuggled closer to Thomas as the baby wiggled his way out of his grip.

"Hug." he commanded his father, tugging at his braid and gesturing to Chris. Byron couldn't help but break out in a small fit of laughter as he lightly embraced his two boys.

Squirming away from the hug to make sure they were hugging properly, Thomas happened upon a great idea.

"Where are you going?" Chris asked the younger as he began crawling away towards the kitchen.

"Let's see where he goes" Byron suggeseted, arm still around his sons shoulder.

Following the younger as he finally reached the fridge, Byron leaned over Thomas as he tapped at the fridge.

"Hungry son?" maybe that was the reason he was still up?

"Open!" Thomas tapped again, looking to his father for help.

"Dad I think—"

"No, shh, Chris!" Thomas giggled, now tugging at the fridge door.

"Oh, let's see where he's going with this," Byron smiled, helping Thomas open the fridge door. Kissing his fathers cheek in gratitude, Byron picked up the small child to get a better look at the contents of the fridge.

Ah he needed to pick up some milk later.

Leaning into the fridge and grabbing a loaf of bread, Thomas hissed as Byron tried to do it himself.

"No, I wanna'" he hopped up and down, leaning towards the counter to place the bread down. Chris watched curiously as Thomas hugged the jar of jam closely and nodded to their father.

"Oh, I think I see now…" the elder grinned affectionately, grabbing a butter knife from the drawer.

"Dad, don't let him near the knife!" Chris scolded, but Byron responded with a simple grin, as he helped Thomas sloppily spread jam on both sides of the bread.

Smacking both pieces together and grinning in triumph, Thomas' eyes widened in fear as his father brought their hands down to cut the sandwich into two rectangles.

"Daddy, no!" he cried out, using both his squishy hands to guide the cut into a diagnol.

And Thomas didn't stop there.

As Chris did for him, Thomas guided the knife to cut the soggy bread into sloppy, tiny triangles.

"Eat, eat!" he bubbled, crawling over the counter to shove a piece in Chris' mouth. His hands already coated in jam, Thomas plopped himself down to shove the sandwich slices periodically into his brothers mouth.

Chris always fed him when he was feeling bad, so he wanted to do the same!

"No, Thomas baby, I can feed myself.." Chris half choked, unable to force his brother to stop. He-he was just so earnest in his intent!

"Nonononono, nonooo," Thomas frowned, silencing Chris with another bite. Seeing his brother cough and smile his old familiar smile again, Thomas jumped into his lap.

Smothering Chris' neatly made braid with his sticky, jam coated fingers, Thomas bubbled cheerfully as Chris soothingly hugged him back.

"I suppose hair can always be washed," Chris couldn't help but mutter to himself, swallowing down the last bit of the sweet, soggy concoction his baby brother had come up with. He had skipped dinner…so he was actually feeling much better with a full stomach.

"Indeed it can be, now how's about I put him down for tonight, and you wash up? We can perhaps read together afterwards, son." Byron offered, feeling foolish for losing his temper with his dear son.

"Y-yes, that sounds good, father"

"No nap!" Thomas yawned, snuggling closer to Chris' shoulder. He wanted to draw Chris something now. Then he would feel even better…maybe…in the morning though…

Yeah, the morning sounded good.


End file.
